Chryed Love
by Mushroom Hair
Summary: You and Me.


_**Well, here it is, number 50 (Or number 49 if you don't count Chryed Wardrobe, but hey!) Just want to say a huge thank you to everyone that's read and enjoyed them, and for all your lovely comments and reviews. Special thanks to Breadstix, Only Tonight, Mynameisyou,Bear, Crazy Susan, DiamondDust, Ardchoile,Rhumbatugger,Caz,Karendb, Elphaba,Indiefran in fact all of the posters and lurkers on WFCTGIO, a wonderful bunch of people. And thank you BBC for creating a couple that have caught so many people's imaginations. Bloody hell, I've done a speech, I feel like Kate Winslet. :D**_

**_This one's a little bit different, and a bit longer, so I hope you still enjoy it. Love and kisses MH xxxxxxxxxxxxx_**

"He called you what?"

Christian twisted round from the sink so fast, Syed worried that he might give himself whiplash.

"It doesn't matter Christian. He's just an ignorant pig."

Christian grabbed his shoulders, hands still sudsy from the washing up.

"But you're shaking. Of course it matters. The fucking bastard, I'll go and have a word with him."

He searched around angrily for the kitchen towel, gave up and wiped his hands down the back of his tracksuit bottoms.

Syed hurriedly deposited the two Minute Mart carrier bags he was holding onto the worktop, trying unsuccessfully to catch a tin of beans as it rolled out and clanked onto the floor. He positioned himself quickly in the doorway, blocking Christian's path.

"Please, don't. Just leave it. Ignore him."

Christian looked at him in amazement.

"Leave it? He calls my boyfriend homophobic and racist names and we're supposed to put up with it? Just let it go? I'm buggered if I will."

Syed smiled slightly at Christian's turn of phrase and shook his head sadly.

"Please. Don't make a scene, it will make things worse. I just want us to be normal."

"But that's the point. We are normal. It's bigoted shits like him that are weird."

Christian pushed past Syed, clenching his fists, looking for something to break.

"Christian, don't throw anything, it'll be me that ends up clearing it up. Forget it. Go to work. Do aggressive hard pumping, you'll feel better."

Christian met Syed's pleading eyes in disbelief.

"How can you be so calm? You made me go to the police, remember."

Syed began to sort the shopping from the bags, his voice muffled as he pushed frozen peas into the freezer.

"That was a little bit different though Christian. You'd been beaten to within an inch of your life. I've been called a few names, playground stuff, it doesn't compare."

Christian picked up his keys and gripped them tight, leaving an impression of them in his palm.

"But he's a grown man, not a child. There are laws about this."

Syed shut the freezer door with a bang.

"Sticks and stones and all that. Honestly, I'm fine. I'm begging you to leave it. Don't give him the satisfaction of knowing it's wound you up."

He crossed the sitting room and kissed Christian fondly.

"Now go to work, forget about it. I'll see you for lunch."

* * *

Christian slammed out of the flat and stormed across the square. As he raged through the market, Jane called out a cheerful greeting from the front of the café. Balancing plates on one arm, she bit her lip in concern at Christian's terse response.

Christian slowed down as he neared the pet food stall. He caught the look that the man who ran it gave him. Evil little eyes looking him up and down with disgust. He was in the process of selling a dog bed to a customer, and as he took the payment he made a comment, nodding over in Christian's direction, guffawing with hateful laughter.

Christian felt a red mist rise, and before he could help himself, strutted over to the market stall.

The customer bundled his purchase into a bag and walked hurriedly away, glancing behind him.

"Got something you want to share?"

Christian was standing so close to the man he could smell the tobacco and stomach acid on his breath.

The man shifted from foot to foot and slid his eyes furtively away from Christian's stare, pretending to count the money in his belt.

"Nah mate."

"Really?"

Christian raised an eyebrow in disdain.

"Is that so? You had a lot to say for yourself earlier on. Cat toy got your tongue? Jealous of him are you? I've seen you checking me out. Do you like what you see? Too shy to ask me out on a date?"

The man sneered.

"Don't know what you're on about."

"Too scared to say it to our faces then. You pathetic little shit. One more comment and I'm going to stick one of those Jumbones so far down your throat you won't be able to beg me to stop. I'd put it somewhere else, but you'd probably enjoy that. Understand?"

The man retreated, nodding mutely and Christian stepped back, his heart racing. From the corner of his eye he saw Ina on the flower stall give him the thumbs up. Hearing a muffled 'ow!' he realised he had trodden on someone's foot and twisted around to apologise.

"Everything alright Christian?"

Tamwar's face was scrunched up in habitual confusion.

"Tam! Sorry, did I step on you? Fine, a bit of business to sort out that's all."

Christian noted he had wanted to add 'but don't tell Sy.' and instantly started to regret what he had done.

'I shouldn't have said anything.' he thought glumly. 'Sy asked me not too.' cursing himself, he knew that he would have probably risen above the name calling if it had been directed at him, but some chivalrous protectiveness had taken over.

"Gah, who do I think I am? Sir Lancelot?'

"Are you sure you're O.K Christian? You seem a bit distracted."

Christian patted Tamwar on the shoulder and he buckled slightly under the weight.

"Everything's dandy. Where are you off to?"

Tamwar squinted across the gardens.

"All day in the unit. Mum's got me doing everything for a big function."

"Is Bushra involved?"

Tamwar groaned in response.

"Good luck with that then. See you later Tam."

Christian broke into a run, suddenly remembering he had made himself late for his first client.

* * *

Syed looked up from the newspaper and smiled delightedly.

"Tambo! Mum let you out then?"

Tamwar weaved his way through the chairs in the café and sank down wearily beside him.

"I've sneaked out for something to eat. All that food there and not allowed to touch any of it."

"It's not for you Tamwar, it's for people that pay!"

Tamwar laughed at Syed's impression of their mother.

"Are you waiting for Christian?" he asked

"Yep. And he's late."

Tamwar fiddled with the red plastic ketchup dispenser between them.

"Is there something wrong? He was having a right go at that weaselly little man that runs the pet stall this morning. So I just wondered…."

"He what?"

Syed had become very still and Tamwar sensed it might be a good idea to start back tracking.

"When I say a right go, I mean, a word. You know, quite friendly, nothing…"

He trailed off weakly.

Syed fished around in his jeans pocket for his mobile phone.

"I will kill him."

* * *

Christian put his key in the lock with trepidation, poking his head tentatively around the door, he tried what he hoped was a placating smile.

"Hey."

Syed leant stony faced against the wall to the kitchen.

"I asked you not to."

Christian took a step towards him, blustering.

"I know, I'm sorry Sy. I just got mad, saw red. I shouldn't have.."

"Why Christian? You heard me, I said leave it, you promised."

Syed had hardly moved a muscle and the atmosphere in the flat was thick with his rage.

" I didn't technically.. We could sort it out in bed…"

Christian began to stare at Syed's mouth and he erupted.

" Oh for fucks sake Christian, you can't sort everything by banging my brains out. Why won't you ever listen? Swanning around like a one man gay mafia. What if he'd had a go at you? Little blokes like that, they're hard. And he's probably got a load of fascist mates only too happy to help him teach you a lesson."

"But I.."

Shocked, Christian made an attempt to interject, unsure of what he could say to calm Syed down, scared now.

"I don't need you to fight my battles Christian. I've had enough of them to get through in one lifetime, I can cope with some pathetic bigot without you wading in."

He bent to savagely pull an overnight case from the drawer under the bed.

"Sy don't."

Christian held out his hand, frightened to touch him for fear of making things worse, standing helpless as Syed began to manically stuff clothing into the bag.

As Christian watched him disappear into the bathroom, heard the clatter of toiletries being bundled up, he felt his throat tighten with unshed tears.

"Don't go Syed, I'm so sorry."

Syed reappeared, zipping up his toilet bag.

"You're always sorry Christian. I just need to get away, to calm down. I'll call you."

He brushed past and away down the stairs, leaving Christian open mouthed, one tear trickling down his cheek, eyes, wide with shocked misery, fixed on Syed's departing back.

* * *

Syed slumped in the darkened cinema. He had eaten two packets of M & M's and drunk a litre of coke far too quickly. Wriggling with the pain of indigestion, he figured that, as far as he could tell, he was the only one in there and let out a massive belch. Dismayed, he sensed movement in the gloom of the front row and saw the emergency light gleam off a bald head.

The man turned and Syed sensed a wave. With horror, he watched the man approach, seeing the leer on his shiny face.

With a sudden turn of speed Syed bolted for the exit, clambering over the folding red seats and leaving his coke carton rolling down the stairs, the ice cubes spewing over the carpet.

He returned to the small bed and breakfast in the High Street, letting himself into his dingy room and throwing himself despondently onto the lumpy bed. He itched slightly at the thought of the many previous occupants and longed for the luxurious expanse of his and Christian's king size mattress, yearned for the sight of a broad back, a mole on a throat, the strong curve of a jaw.

He bit into the dry samosa he had bought from the local supermarket, wishing it were one of his mother's and resolutely ignored the insistent throbbing of his mobile phone.

Christian had called him sixteen times while it had been turned off at the pictures and Syed knew he was beginning to waver.

'My flouncing off has been pathetic' he chided himself. 'I've stormed off up the road.'

He turned on the tiny LCD television, it's Freeview reception flickering and pixilated, freezing every time a lorry thundered by the window.

Comforting himself that at least he could watch BBC 4 all evening without Christian moaning, he found himself automatically tuning into Living, knowing exactly when Christian would shout 'minger!' at Next Top Model.

* * *

Christian half heartedly shouted "minger" and took a swig of beer. He toyed with the phone in his hand, willing it to ring, wondering if he had left a long enough gap in time to try Syed again. He had run out of ways to say sorry, thinking it might be an idea to Google it and learn how to apologise in as many languages as possible. He hated the emptiness of the flat. The alcohol tasted bitter and was bypassing the intoxication stage, sending him straight to the misery and the headache.

"I can't bear this." his voice choked loud in the silence and he grabbed pathetically at the shirt next to him, pushing it to his face and breathing in the last traces of the smell of Syed's skin.

He hurled the now empty bottle at the door, hoping it might make him feel better, and jumped backwards fully clothed onto the bed, clutching a pillow and shaking with sobs.

* * *

Having worn himself out by crying quite a lot for about an hour, Syed started to wonder if he might have over reacted.

'He was only standing up for me after all.' The thought made his chest tighten with love and he picked up his unopened bag and made his way out into the deserted street.

* * *

Christian sat up with a start at the sound of feet crunching on broken glass. The sudden glare of the overhead light making him blink at the figure in the doorway.

"You broke something then."

Christian gulped back a sob of relief.

"I broke something."

"I'm sorry."

They spoke at once and laughed, strangely shy with each other.

Syed lay his keys quietly on the table and looked up, his eyes wide and dark, still glistening with tears.

"Can I come to bed?"

"I've been waiting."

* * *

The sound of the reversing bin lorry outside the flat window filtered into Christian's dreams and woke him. He could hear Ian's voice from the chippy below shouting at Peter to hurry up. The discarded duvet lay in a plump heap on the floor, the sheets a hot tangle around their legs. Eyes narrowed in a shaft of sunlight he looked longingly at the soft curve of the sleeping Syed's mouth as he lay beside him, their skin stuck together with sweat, Syed's fingers curled tightly in his chest hair.

"Sy."

Christian whispered his name and he stirred gently, long lashes lifting and brown eyes opened to greet him.

"I'm sorry, lo siento, jag ar ledsen, het spijt me, mi dispiace."

"Stop saying it Christian, we more than made up last night. You were only looking out for us, I know that now."

"And you were only worried for me. We're a right pair of twats aren't we?"

Syed stretched and tried to move even closer, to be inside him.

"Prize ones. We've had enough of our bloody family and friends trying to come between us without letting a stranger do it."

He felt Christian's voice resonate through him.

"It's you and me against the world."

Syed lifted his face to be kissed.

"It's about love."


End file.
